Egyptian Chaos
by Ethelflaed
Summary: -Egypt Fic...obviously- Aah, computers. They often--nay, regularly malfunction. However, it's not very common for them to take you into the past... Or drop you into potted plants, for that matter. Yet they can manage it...
1. Plants and Somesuch

As promised, here is the first chapter to be revamped… I hope you guys enjoy it. A lot of things here will be the same, and some things will be…not so much. Though this can't be in complete compliance with canon, I fear, because my computer blocks Jenniyah's… EVIL COMPUTER! DIIIIEEEEEEE!

Anyway, this will be the only author's note for the duration of the story, unless I need to say something important… Review replies will be implemented, though. I like them…

Don't own YGO! Ha. Ha. HAHAHAHAHA—what am I laughing about? O.o;;

Thanks to Unrealistic for the suggestion; I believe she was the only person to offer anything…

This is going to stink, isn't it? (posts)

********

Kaiba really didn't enjoy school all that much. There were various reasons for this, some of which had to with the cafeteria… But out of everything he disliked, one thing stood out like a sore thumb:

Computer class.

Yes, it would seem that he would enjoy computer class. And he might have, if the teacher had realized that the CEO of a gaming company _might_ understand computers a little bit better than the rest of the class. Or if the teacher had actually shown some disciplining skills.

But as he had neither…

"Take two steps forward," sang something on someone's computer. Kaiba blinked, and looked. It was Téa's computer, upon which she was moving several…wiggling…hamsters? I can't believe this… (Everybody: hamster dance!) Kaiba's eyes flickered desperately over to the computer teacher. Maybe once, just this once, he might enforce a rule… The teacher was humming the song. Never mind, then… A color flickered across his own screen. He blinked at it, then ignored it as a glitch, and went back to his Flash animation—which was what they were actually supposed to be working on in the first place. 

There was a silence (except for the hamsters and typing) in which everyone worked on their respective projects. Then the teacher said, staring at the screen…

"Mister Kaiba, are you aware of the problems your monitor is having?"

"Yes…"

In a fit of concern for student safety, the teacher ordered Kaiba to turn his computer off. Annoyed, the teen quickly saved his animation, and went to "Start". That was about as far as he got before the screen suddenly went black.

I guess it crashed… thought Kaiba, tapping it. He was supposed to be tapping, at least. His fingers ended up going through the screen—and stuck there. Or perhaps they did more than stick… 

The hand had disappeared by now. And his arm was going fast.

There was general pandemonium in the rest of the classroom, and a few people ran up to pull him out. (He noted dryly that the teacher was not amongst them. Figured…) They were the people he would expect to do that—Yugi, Téa, Joey, and someone else he didn't know very well; Yugi's friend Ryou Bakura.

Amidst the pulling and the digging in of heels and the grunting, something happened. The vanished hand abruptly felt leaves beneath its fingers. And then he was completely sucked in…and the other four with him.

********

Mokuba turned on the TV, feeling bored. His school had let out early, but Seto wasn't home yet… He decided to watch the news. A man, wearing a blue suit, was on. His face was attempting to look concerned but was plainly saying oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy-I-have-the-scoop-of-the-century-oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy…

"Right now, at Domino High, a great tragedy has occurred…" 

"Domino High?"

"Seto Kaiba, when engaged in computer class—" 

"Seto??"

"_—was mysteriously sucked down a black hole—"_

"BLACK HOLE???"

"—on his monitor. Scientists have been contacted, however, any attempts to test this hole have led to the instruments disappearing. Along with Seto Kaiba, students Téa Gardner, Yugi Moto, Joey Wheeler, and Ryou Bakura. More to come as this develops…"

Mokuba stared in shock. What on earth…? Could it be the Big Five again? Pegasus? Noa? Marik? Amelda? Dartz? He ran through his list of People Who Have Threatened Seto. None of them seemed very probable…

There was only one solution. He'd have to find the computer, and go down it himself.

********

Téa pushed herself from a large amount of sand, spitting some out from her mouth, then looked around her. There were…buildings. And a few people who were staring at her as if she had just fallen from the sky. Joey was also just getting up, when a beaker fell the air just above him and hit his head.

"Ow!"

A funnel.

"Ow!"

A spoon.

"Ow!"

A tuning fork.

"Ow!"

A broom.

"O—AH!"

(Meanwhile, the Domino Scientific Reasearch Committee and the Domino Society for the Study of the Paranormal debated whether or not shoving the janitor's favorite broom into the monitor was a very wise move, after all. The janitor was looking for a broom to hit them with. However, this is of little importance except to explain the falling objects.)

They walked quickly away from the still-falling items, before anything sharp fell on Joey's head. Or poisonous. Or acidic. Téa, smiling, tapped a man on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir, but we're lost. Could you tell us the way to Domino High?"

The man stared at her as if she were babbling nonsense words, then set off into a high indignant stream of words that sounded completely unfamiliar, then shouted something that Téa was _glad_ she couldn't understand, and ran off.

"…That was pointless," said Joey.

"Shaddup."

"Well it _was_…"

"And I suppose you could do better?"

"Sure!" said Joey. He walked up to the first girl he saw, and flashed the Award Winning Joey Wheeler Smile™. "Hey, Ms. Beautiful, wanna help me, the greatest guy on earth—"

("That'll be the day," muttered Téa behind him.)

"—(_shut up, Téa_) the best thing since sliced bread—or pizza—or those things in olives—and jelly doughnuts—get home, and maybe I'll add you to my—"

The girl, apparently getting his message, promptly slapped him in the face and started screeching in a high, shrill voice. Joey grinned at Téa.

"I think she fell for me."

"…Oh _please_…"

"C'mon Téa! Different cultures, different expressions. I mean, just listen to her!" cried Joey victoriously.

"I'm listening. Are you looking?"

"Eh?" Joey turned as he noticed the long shadow in front him. What was apparently the girl's father was pounding one heavy, tanned fist roughly the size of Joey's head into the other hand.

"…Eeeeeeeeeep…"

"Different cultures, different expressions, Joey!" sang Téa with a grin.

"You're right Téa, you're right for the rest of your life, just _plleeeeeease save MEEEE!"_

"O_kay_…I _suppose_ I could help…"

********

Kaiba had fallen on a potted plant. After extricating himself from his head-first position in the urn, he had a few choice words to say:

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Stupid plant. I'll sue. Ow."

Getting up, he looked around. He was in a palace, by a now-destroyed plant, in a hallway, which contained identical plants. A fat man came running up to him, puffing,

"Pharaoh! Falling into potted plants! You're destroying palace property! (Although it is your property…but…) Shame…"

"……………Pharaoh? Yugi's going to get a kick out of this. And, you know, there are no pharaohs any more. They're gone. After Cleopatra died and Rome took over…"

"Cleopatra? Rome? What are you talking—"

"Look," interrupted Kaiba. "I don't know why I was sucked through a computer screen to talk to a fat, short mental patient who keeps calling me 'pharaoh', but I don't—wha?"

Set, who had just entered the hallway, took a few steps backward and walked into another potted plant. Kaiba moved to step in front of his own plant. The fat man was now overwhelmed by the destruction of palace property.

"Two pharaohs? Two destroyed plants? This was not in the yearly budget… Oh dear…"

Set started to finger the Millennium Rod. "Ten seconds to tell me why you are here before I have you dragged outside and branded for destroying my personal property."

"It's a _plant_," stated Kaiba flatly. His eyes flickered over to Set's plant. "_Yeah_."

The fat man had now passed out, thereby destroying another plant, after hyperventilating for the duration of the conversation. Which wasn't all that long…

"You lose plants quickly, don't you?" Not waiting for an answer, the CEO turned to go. "This was pointless."

"HEY! GET BACK HERE! YOU HAVE…plants to answer for? Wait a second…"

Kaiba strode down the hallways, acting completely careless. Everyone thought he was Set, so no one was attacking him. All he had to do was walk out the door, rent a plane, fly to Domino, and sue everyone. He was thinking about this when he ran into someone, right at the gates.

A rather pale woman looked down at him as he got to his feet, and suddenly smiled. "Lord Set…"

"Eh?" said Kaiba. _Set must be that idiot I left in the hallway…_

"Lord Set…" she said again. "You…the Dragon—"

"Look. I'm not Set. He's in a hallway, mourning plants. All right?"

Her smile flickered. "Tell him…" She slowly started to dissolve. "Tell—"

Kaiba reached out, half in alarm, half hoping this was the solution to returning to Domino High and the strange computer. She was no longer solid, and his hand went straight through her, and as she faded, the air that had once contained her was icily cold.

One hand reached out to almost touch him, though the fading fingers did not really connect. "Promise me…"

Then she was gone. Kaiba stood in the gateway, with the sun nearly baking him, and inwardly felt very, very cold. The woman couldn't have been real. Just a heat mirage. Or cafeteria food…

_But I ran into her… She knocked me _over_. How the?_

Oh well. This is just one giant asylum, anyway… 

He ran out the gateway and into the city. And he stood still, realizing this was not modern day anything. Or a movie set. This was…

Ancient Egypt?

"Egypt!" said a tanned, strangely dressed Yami. He turned to Yugi. "_Egypt!"_

_Since when,_ thought Kaiba, _does he have a tan? Or his own body, for that matter… And when did _I _start believing in his existence in the first place?_

"Yes, I know. It's Egypt," Yugi said flatly. It was apparent they had been over this several times. "And you're happy. People are staring, you know…"

"Why not? I _am_ the Pharaoh! …Hey, why aren't they bowing?"

"Um—hey, look! Kaiba!" said Yugi, happily changing the subject. Kaiba groaned. Stuck in Egypt, with a euphoric Pharaoh and a short naïve kid. (Albeit a kid his own age.) At least, say, Joey wasn't here. Then this would just be—

"All right, Téa," floated a voice with a Brooklyn accent. "I won't argue with you again. Promise. Now tell me if that gorilla found us!"

"He didn't."

"…You mean I just promised to never argue with you for nothing?"

"Yup."

"Nyah… Kaiba?"

"Great. Wheeler."

"Hey, maybe we can sick the gorilla on _him_…"

"No, Joey."

"Why?"

"EGYPT!"

"Hey, Yugi split. That makes life easier…"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaase?"

"NO!"

********

There was silence in Kuru Eruna. There always was, for people who could not hear the ghosts. As most couldn't, it was still, except for when the wind blew dust or when the occasional person wandered in, lost from the desert, and ignorant of the spirits which inhabited it. The ghosts usually left such as that alone. They had attacked once, when the murderers came.

But now someone entered Kuru Eruna, saw its ghosts and spoke to them. He had, after all, been one of them. But that was before they were dead. Now that they were spirits, he could not properly be in their number without dying himself. But that would never happen.

His name used to be Bakura; Thief King Bakura. Someone else had taken up that name, however, which meant he was now merely Thief. A name didn't matter greatly, anyway. It did not affect his plans or the actions he would take.

Thief walked through the screams and wailing of the ghosts, down to an underground chamber, to the long slab of stone that lay there, seven niches carefully shaped into their respective Items.

He went and crouched on it; then sat, waiting, and thinking thoughts of revenge. The life he had been leading up to the time he had walked into the village disappeared into the shadows of his mind. It was not until he noticed that his own Millennium Item, the Ring, was not there that his mind thought of anything but death.

.

Someone else was in Kuru Eruna. His name was, as it happens, Bakura. He did not see nor hear the ghosts, but he felt them. The village, despite the sun, was cold. Not physically cold, but…

Bakura shivered violently. The Millennium Ring twitched and the gold that dangled off of it pointed every which way, flashing and spinning and going wild. He fingered it, listening for the presence of his other self.

No one spoke to him; nothing stirred within the Ring. There was just the empty village, the dust, the burning, relentless sun…and the cold that racked his body at random.

"Hallo?" he called, tentatively.

_Hallo? Hallo? Hallo…_ called back his echo.

"Is there anyone? …Anyone at all?"

_…At all, at all, at all…_

Bakura sat, silent, picking up an old knife from the ground, the hilt gone and the blade near-gone with rust. It left a stain on the ground, a blood-colored stain that made it seem like the earth was bleeding.

It grew colder and colder. Kuru Eruna was furious at his intrusion, and it was telling him. The knife dropped from Bakura's numb fingers to leave red streaks on the ground.

"Perhaps I should leave…"

_…Leave…leave…leave…_ said the echoes, weaker and slower, now. Bakura sighed, turning on his heel to walk away from the town, through the desert, to the next, and hope there was something that was alive.

"Leaving Ghost Town so soon?" asked a harsh voice behind him. Bakura did not turn around; he was apprehensive of what he might see. Instead he fastened his eyes on the red earth, and murmured,

"So that's the name of the town…"

"No," answered the voice. "But it is Ghost Town. Nothing lives here; they only exist."

Bakura nervously began to walk away, but a hand stopped him. "You cannot leave like that," said the harsh voice. "You have something of mine…"

Now he had to turn, and he looked behind him to see the disappeared other half, possessed by insanity and staring at the Ring with hungry, twitching eyes, the scar over his right eye twisting as his face convulsed and quivered.

Just for a moment, the cloud lifted off his face, and he stared at Bakura for a moment with a quizzical look.

"Ryou?"

Then he collapsed.


	2. Of Onions and Ink

The village of Deir el-Medina had long been in competition with Kuru Eruna, but ever since that town's untimely end, it had enjoyed a position at the top of tomb robbery. And now, especially that "Lord Thief King" Bakura had died, Deir el-Medina had almost more to rob than they could handle.

But the style of the robbery had changed. For Kuru Eruna, thievery had been an art, a skill honed to perfection, passed down through generations with zealous care. This came of having once been tomb builders—the trace of the craftsman clung doggedly to them.

Deir el-Medina viewed in this fashion: Me thief. You shiny. Me take. The village had, admittedly, also been craftsman. They had simply not been very devoted craftsman.

And that's why the boy had gone there. He was a boy of insatiable curiosity, as they say, and he wanted to pitch the two styles against each other. (He had been schooled in the Kuru Eruna fashion.) So when he saw a basket of onions lying on the ground, he purloined one.

Well, hardly _purloined._ It was, after all, a very small and _scrawny_ onion. Hardly, really, an onion at all. And such a _measly_ little onion could hardly be needed in such a big basket of onions—indeed, if they were to be sold, the mere presence of this shriveled thing might damage the selling power of the rest of the basket. He was shocked to find four more inferior onions, and promptly removed them. What an act of charity this was, to be sure.

It was equally sure that the owner of the basket did not take the same view. He had protested loudly, uncouthly, and unrefinedly, that the boy was a thief. (The boy kept his comments about the man's occupations strictly to himself—however, he highly doubted this was the first time the onion had changed hands.)

So now the village tough (whose thoughts went: Me big. You little. Me hurt.) was taking the boy out to Kuru Eruna, to leave him there. Deir el-Medina had a healthy fear of Kuru Eruna—even if the souls of the thieves did not wander there, it was probably bad luck to visit the scene of the disaster.

The boy was dumped on the ground of village, and before he could object, he heard an older boy's voice calling—

"_Wait!_"

The tough stared at the ghost (well, he assumed it was ghost), screamed out something unintelligible, and ran for his life, leaving the cart he had brought the boy in behind.

"_I said, wait—_you can't hear me anymore..." muttered the older boy. "Oh—hallo..."

The thief-child stared up at the older boy with an expression of awe. "You—you _came back from the dead!"_

"...I did?"

"_YOU DID!_"

"...Look, I really think you—"

"I told them all you wouldn't die, and they mocked me. Ha!"

"—ve got me mixed up with some—"

"Oh, they'll get that laughter _shoved right down their throats..._"

"—one else. My friend is very—"

"_...with a rotten lotus._ Yes. I am truly worthy."

"—ill, can you come and see if he's...dehydrated or something?"

"Yes, my master!" cried the thief-child. "I hear and obey!"

Bakura—for that was the older boy—brought the thief-child to the collapsed body of Evil Bakura, bright red robe moving listlessly with the faint wind. The thief-child blinked at the red coat and white hair, then at Bakura, then back again.

"Who are you?"

——

"So," said Atemu, frowning at a small bug crawling on the floor beneath his feet. They had rented a room at an inn—omitting to tell the innkeeper that they had no money—and were currently reviewing their situation.

There was a pause as everyone waited for Atemu to continue.

"So...?" asked Tea.

"...We're stuck in Egypt," Atemu stated.

"Or," muttered Kaiba, determined to propose an alternative, "we're on a really big movie set."

"This isn't a movie set—I mean, there aren't any _cameras—_" began Yugi.

"Hidden."

"—and I doubt," he continued, "that a computer would suck us onto a movie set."

"Why?" asked Kaiba. "A computer could suck us into a million different places—if it's going to put us somewhere, why _not_ a giant movie set? It's certainly bizarre enough..." He knew perfectly well they were in Egypt, but it couldn't hurt to say they weren't.

"As I was saying," Atemu started, loudly, "we are stranded in Egypt, approximately three thousand years ago. Currently, Bakura is missing from our group—nobody saw him, did they?"

They all shook their heads.

"So we need to get to our own time, and we need to find Bakura," stated Atemu. "Not in that order."

"And to get to our own time, don't we need to know how we got here?" queried Joey.

"Through a computer," Tea said automatically.

"No—I mean, who caused the computer to...mess up like that..."

Kaiba remembered the Lord Set Girl, then dismissed the idea. Considering that she had been barely strong enough to appear to him, she probably wasn't powerful enough to reach them through three thousand years and as many miles. Unless, of course, she'd been weakened from great exertion... Ha. Like that was possible.

"Bakura might be able to throw some light on it, if we can find him," mused Kaiba. "But if he can throw light on it, we might not find him."

"Wha?" asked Atemu, attempting to decipher that statement.

"Someone could be killing him to keep him quiet, genius."

"Then let's start looking for him," said Joey, standing. "I mean—Kaiba could be right, or he could be lost, or he could have money—"

"Just start looking," muttered Yugi.

——

"...do you understand?" concluded Bakura. The boy looked at him a for moment, bit into his onion, and stated:

"No. But—you aren't dead, which means that Thief King must not want you to be dead. Because if he did," the boy added, "you _would_ be dead."

"...I see..."

"Though, to be honest, Thief King is looking somewhat dead... Actually, I shouldn't be talking much about death, should I? It makes them upset."

"Who?" asked Bakura. _There isn't anyone in this freezing town..._

"The ghosts," answered the boy. "They don't like strangers, either—but I'm not a stranger... Want a onion?" he added, finishing one.

"No thanks," said Bakura, faintly. He looked around for a sign of a ghost, but he didn't see anything very unusual. But it was still very, very cold... It had gradually gotten warmer, but it was still far cooler than any normal Egyptian village should be.

"I think he's coming around," the boy remarked. "Hello, master!"

"Master" stared—blinked—let out a groan...

"I missed you, master," said the boy affectionately.

"Aren't you dead yet?" demanded Thief.

"No. You missed me, too..."

"Sokkwi," muttered Thief. The boy—Bakura supposed his name was Sokkwi—smiled appreciatively.

"Want an onion?"

"No."

——

"No," snapped Kaiba. "We do _not _want your figs!"

They had split up—Kaiba and Tea going one way, Atemu, Yugi, and Joey going another. That way, at least one person in the group could speak to everyone around them. There were complications—such as finding clothes that melted in with the crowd, and disguising the three who did speak Egyptian. (This explained why there was a wet black fluid dripping from Kaiba's sloppily dyed hair.)

"But the figs," pleaded the dealer, "they are _ripe_, yes, so ripe..."

"What are you telling him?" asked Tea.

"I'm telling him to go die," said Kaiba. In Egyptian, he growled, "Let go of my arm!"

"The figs," continued the man, "they are tasty..."

"What is he telling you?"

"That he dislikes dying."

"Well, that's natural..."

Kaiba shook the dealer off, and Tea studied Kaiba's face for a moment. "I think it might have been wiser to wait for that ink to dry... You look sort of like a renegade scribe, or something."

"It wasn't my idea to run off and search the world for Bakura on a hot Egyptian day... What are we looking for, anyway? It's not as though we can ask everyone if they've seen a boy with white hair."

"Perhaps," suggested Tea, "you could stand somewhere high up and scream: _Boy with white hair missing—if found, please report to..._"

He glared at her.

"Just an idea—I don't suppose there's any sort of Egyptian police station? No..."

"Anyway, there's someone else with white hair who isn't Bakura," said Kaiba. "True, she's not male, but anyone can make a stupid mistake..."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know her name—I met her outside the—"

Tea interrupted him, mind whirling. "There can't be _that_ many white-haired Egyptians...I—I'll bet she's related to Bakura!"

"How can she be related to Bakura? Bakura's not going to appear for...two thousand eighty-three years! And he's not even Egyptian—"

"No, no—the other Bakura."

"_What_ other Bakura?"

"The crazy one. Now, where did you meet her?"

"Outside the palace. Look, Tea—"

"Right!" She nodded. "Lead the way, Kaiba. It's time to make some progress. Let us return to the palace and ask some questions."

——

"Are you _sure_ this is a good idea?" asked Yugi for the third time.

"Of course it is," said Joey. "My ideas are always good."

"I really don't think attempting to rally the people to my banner is going to help much. Especially," added Atemu, "since I don't have a banner..."

"Technicalities, Yug', technicalities."

"I'm not Yugi," muttered Atemu.

"Sorry 'bout that... So, we need some cloth to make a banner. Do you have any clotheslines in Egypt?"

"Where do you think we got our clothes?" asked Yugi, fingering the ill-fitting clothes taken from...well, someone.

"Then the search is on."

Atemu draped a largish piece of cloth over his hair before searching. While it did little to hide the hair, he hoped to make it less conspicuous. Joey snatched the cloth off of his head, and waved it triumphantly.

"_Behold your banner!_"

"...It says absolutely nothing," growled Atemu. "Give me back my hat."

"Do we have any ink left over from dumping it on Kaiba's hair?" inquired Yugi. "I'm sure that Atemu can write out something inspiring, and then we'll have a banner."

"Give back my—"

"I think we do. And if we don't, we can always steal some more."

"The whole point of this was to find B—"

"I'll go find some ink," Joey said, and went off to do precisely that.

——

Aishisu sat in front of her fire, wondering why Set was suddenly so anxious to see into the future. Atemu had never been that worried about what was going to—

She blinked. Atemu? Shaking her head as if to clear it, she wondered where that name had come from. Wait...that was the name of Pharaoh Akumakanon's son. The one that died young, she believed.

She shifted her concentration back to the fire. Funny, how one's mind would make things up.

And slowly, she began to see forms taking place in the flickering blue flames.

.

"Do you have a brother?" Aishisu demanded.

"No," said Set.

"Then you have an impostor. The Necklace has shown him to me...and he's Trouble." She took a deep breath. "He will team up with Lord Thief King—"

"Lord Thief King Bakura is dead," snapped Set.

"No, he's not. He's alive and well, and he's in Kuru Eruna."

"We all saw Akumakanon get rid of him!" bellowed Set. He stopped speaking, puzzled. Why did he say Akumakanon? He had meant to say Atemu. Opening his mouth again, he tried—

"Akumakanon..." Frustrated, Set went onto another subject. "And didn't I give orders to have Kuru Eruna destroyed?"

"Yes, but the workmen..."

"Rebelled?"

"...starting tomb robbing themselves."

"This is ridiculous,"muttered Set. "I can't say Akumakanon, Lord Thief King Bakura is back from the dead, and I have an impostor who starts off work by falling into my potted plants..."

"You just said it," Aishisu pointed out.

"Just said what?"

"Akumakanon."

"I know. I can say Akumakanon—it's Akumakanon that I can't say..."

"But you just—"

"I know I just said Akumakanon! That's the point," snapped Set. "If I could say it, would I be saying Akumakanon? NO! Go away."

"Yes, my pharaoh," said a very confused Aishisu. She retreated into her room, and looked back at the fire. _I don't suppose,_ she thought, _that the Necklace can tell me if the Pharaoh is insane..._

.

Set rubbed his forehead, feeling very tired. Perhaps a ride through the city would do him good—yes, a good ride through the city, with the populace bowing at his feet. Then he could get to work on forcing his mouth to say "Atemu".

He wondered why Aishisu hadn't noticed that he had said "Akumakanon" instead of "Atemu". Probably just worn out from seeing the future...

He strode off to request a horse.

.

"What," inquired a guard, "is your business at the palace?"

"An...ink delivery," said Kaiba, resisting the urge to rub the splotch of ink on his nose.

One of the guards, who was apparently practicing to be a stand-up comedian, started off on a joke about ink. He was silenced, and the first guard continued talking:

"I don't recall anyone ordering any ink."

Kaiba looked at him coldly. "I doubt that you are entrusted with a list of every delivery expected."

The comedian blinked. "Hey, you know, when he glares like that, this ink guy looks just like the Pharaoh!"

The first guard stiffened. "_Are_ you the Pharaoh? Have you come to test our loyalty?"

"No—"

"See how well I am performing my duties, O Pharaoh!"

"I just want to deliver the ink—"

"What are they saying?" whispered Tea. "And why have they fallen flat on their faces?"

"They think I'm Set," said Kaiba. "And he's the Pharaoh, so..."

At this point, Set was getting on his horse and thinking about how relaxing this was going to be. He meandered towards the gate at a comfortable trot, thinking about trivial things such as dinner, the color scheme of his room, and how to get rid of Mana.

Then he saw Kaiba.

A pregnant silence followed, the two guards still prostrate on the ground, and Kaiba and Set both telling themselves this couldn't really be happening. Tea was completely lost, so she admired the horse.

The quiet was broken by Set's scream of—"_Summon Ka!_"

Kaiba and Tea bolted—in opposite directions.

——

"Spy goggles," Mokuba muttered, looking at the assorted items on his bed. "Check. Walkie-talkie—check. Other walkie-talkie—check. Water gun—check. Smoke screen—check. Laser-tag laser—check. Swiss army pocket knife—check. First-Aid Kit—check. Power Bars—check. Water bottle—check. Seto's briefcase—check. _The Encyclopedia Britannica_—check. Backpack—check."

He grinned in spite of his mission. _Let the Boy Scouts beat _this, he thought. _I have everything I could possibly need to go help Seto._

Stuffing everything (excepting the briefcase) into his backpack, he walked down several flights of stairs to the garage. (Waddled, actually, might have been a more appropriate term, as he was quite overloaded.) The chauffeur was not available: and besides, no one used chauffeurs on top-secret missions. No, he'd have to get to Domino High on his own.

Getting onto a motor-powered scooter, he hesitated. Perhaps he should wait until nightfall, so that he was less noticeable. For moment he wavered, then rebuked himself. Did Seto, he asked silently, ever say "Oh, well, I know Mokuba's in the hands of some dastardly evil villain, but I _really _would much rather wait until it was dark to help him"? The answer was a resounding: NO, he did not. Seto would instantly run to help him, day or night, without bothering about being noticed. Should he (Mokuba) behave in any other manner?

No, no, a thousand times no!

With that inspiring thought, Mokuba opened the garage door, and zipped away, down the street, and to Domino High.

——

**Really Short Egyptian Glossary****:**

**Sokkwi—Egyptian name meaning "little fool". As can be gathered from the meaning, that is not this boy's actual name.**

**Somewhat Less Short Review Replies:******

**Cassie & Casie Lupus: I'm afraid I can't—this isn't an author insertion story. Also, the plot of this has a minimal amount to do with Atemu—though that _may_ change in the revised version. Anyway, I'm very glad you enjoyed this, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

**Shibby-One: There will be scenes from the old _Egyptian Chaos_ in this fic, and hopefully the ones you miss will be inserted. (coughs) _Historically,_ this is still off...but so is Yu-Gi-Oh! for that matter (i.e., Mahaado has hair, and lots of it).**

**Greenwood Dancer: Yes. I end it there. I'm addicted to cliff-hangers. (Okay, so "addicted" is putting it very lightly...) Though I didn't update quickly, I hope this ended less evilly.**

**Yugiohchix2008: (grin) Thanks! (Fred... I wonder why he chose _that_ name.)**

**Tyger and Darkdracofire: Sorry about the English names—I watch the dub, so I feel like I can't use the Japanese ones...for...some reason. (sweatdrop) But I'm quite glad that you like this story.**

**Chibi Kita: Spoilers, Kiita. Remember the spoilers.**

**kalania: Thanks!**

**Mouself: Augh... And you're on vacation _now_, too. Feh. Silly Mouself, always going on vacation when I need you to stay still. Anyway—writing spirits mine! (steals) Though...I want you to update... (debates this)**

**Mokuba's Official Glomper: I removed it myself—and I'm very glad you like this one. (is a happy Flaed)**

**Dragon Pearl1: Yup. (grin)**

**Hikarigirl18: How can you hope the ending changes when you didn't know how the other one was going to end?!**

**Tuulikki: (slaps the hand coming out from the computer) _Bad_ computer, getting funny ideas from fanfics... Yes, monarchs would be quite expensive. But Egypt might be used to it, considering that the Pharaohs had quite a few sons running around. (Except for Akumakanon—and Atemu, who has no son at all.)**

**Yoko73: Perhaps Mokuba's intentions are becoming clearer—if not, well, there shall be more.**

**Erckie: (blink) You don't get it...and...it's funny? (confused) Glad you liked it, anyway...**

**Unrealistic: Hm... Electricity... I don't want it to turn into a clone of _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court_, but perhaps it could be worked in. I'll try, anyhow. (Grin) I'm happy you liked this, anyway.**

**Vulpes: "Ryou?" was from the Thief himself. And yes, it's Kisara.**

**Alowl: Yup, it is.**


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